


Thirst

by Kalkasar (Mordhena)



Series: Thirst [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:21:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27148652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Kalkasar
Summary: A note on shared breathing under water:The Hollywood trope of giving mouth to mouth underwater, doesn't work in real life and shouldn't be attempted.If you're ever in a situation where someone you care about is trapped underwater, be like Trip, and focus on getting themout before attempting to give rescue breaths. ❤️
Relationships: Jonathan Archer/Malcolm Reed
Series: Thirst [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1982401
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Thirst

**Author's Note:**

> **A note on shared breathing under water: **  
> **  
> The Hollywood trope of giving mouth to mouth underwater, doesn't work in real life and shouldn't be attempted.**  
>  If you're ever in a situation where someone you care about is trapped underwater, be like Trip, and focus on getting them  
> out before attempting to give rescue breaths. ❤️

The ground was unsteady. Malcolm put out a hand, warning the man who followed to watch his footing.  
"Our scans indicated they were in this direction," he said, glancing over his shoulder at the captain.  
"But with all the seismic activity, I don't think it's wise to go too much farther, sir."  
  
Archer nodded, throwing out his arms to maintain his balance as another tremor shook the area. "I think  
you're right," he agreed. "We'd better turn back and see if we can …"  
His words were cut off as the ground heaved under his feet. Gasping in shock, the captain was thrown  
heavily against the crumbling cliff-face and then the world dissolved into a cacophony of noise and motion.  
He felt himself falling, heard Malcolm's desperate call.  
  
"Captain!"  
  
And then half the hillside they'd been walking on gave away and came crashing down around them. Archer’s  
fingers clawed for purchase, his eyes wildly searching for Malcolm. He coughed in an attempt to clear his  
throat and lungs of the gritty dust. A moment before blackness descended, Archer felt Malcolm's hand  
grip his own, an iron grip that refused to let go. Then he knew nothing more.  
  
\---  
  
"Is everyone okay?"  
  
Commander Tucker straightened from the crouched position he'd assumed when the landslide started. He  
glanced around, accounting for the other members of the team. Hayes, Chang and Kemper all acknowledged  
his call. Tucker frowned, looking around.  
  
"Cap'n Archer!" he yelled. "Lieutenant Reed!"  
  
"They were ahead of us, sir," Hayes said. "Down there," He indicated with one hand.  
  
The path had been obliterated; an ugly gash ran across where, just minutes earlier a narrow, rocky, but clearly  
defined dirt track had wound its way down the hillside. Tucker drew a deep breath and swallowed hard.  
  
"All right," he turned to the others. "Fan out and start searching. Use your scanners."  
  
The away team acknowledged his order and spread out across the area.  
  
"An' watch where you put your feet." Tucker added. "One false step could cause another landslide."  
  
Watching them for a moment, Tucker pushed away the possibilities that presented themselves as he surveyed  
the area. He reached for his communicator in response to it chirping.  
  
"Tucker."  
  
"Commander," Hoshi's voice replied promptly. "We noticed the tremor, is everything all right?"  
  
"Negative," Tucker closed his eyes. "There was a landslide. Some of the team are unaccounted for. Inform  
Phlox to prepare for us to return with injured."  
  
"Who is unaccounted for?" T'Pol's voice broke in.  
  
"Cap'n Archer, and Lieutenant Reed. We're searching for them. I'll keep ya posted."  
  
"Acknowledged."  
  
Tucker cut the communication and began to pick his way down the treacherous slope.  
  
\---  
  
The captain came to his senses slowly, running a mental inventory of himself. He could feel most  
of his extremities. Feet, fingers...a throbbing pain in his head. There was a sensation of pressure  
across his left thigh, but it wasn't painful, just a dead weight – a warm, breathing dead weight that  
groaned when Archer attempted to move.  
  
"Malcolm?" He tried lifting his head and found that there was space enough to sit up. Archer dragged  
himself to a sitting position and tried to make out anything in the heavy darkness that surrounded him.  
  
"Malcolm, are you all right?" Archer reached out in the darkness, encountering something that felt like a shoulder.  
  
Another groan, but Malcolm stirred at his touch.  
  
"Captain..." The voice was faint but strong. "I... think so. I... can't move my legs. Something's pinning them.  
  
Moving slowly, Archer managed to extricate himself from under Malcolm, he groped in the darkness, looking for  
what was holding the other man down and bit his lip as he ran a hand along Reed's back until he encountered  
dirt and rock. Malcolm was buried from the hips down in rubble. The captain cursed silently, wishing he had a  
source of light.  
  
"Are you hurt?"  
  
"I don't think so..." Malcolm replied. "I just can't seem to move."  
  
Archer nodded. Lack of pain wasn't necessarily a good thing. It could indicate paralysis. He sighed and closed his  
eyes, trying to decide what to do. "The rest of the away team weren't far behind," he said, thinking aloud. "Assuming  
they weren't caught in the slide themselves, they'll be searching for us."  
  
"Yessir," Reed agreed.  
  
"I'd say we've fallen into some kind of cave," Archer went on. The echoing quality of sounds when they spoke told him  
that the space around them was considerable.  
  
Archer rested his hand on Reed's back. "Your legs are pinned by rubble, Malcolm," he said as matter-of-factly as he could.  
I'm going to try to move some of it...if you feel any pain, say so."  
  
"Yes, sir." Reed said softly. He paused and then, "I can hear water, Sir. Can you see where it is? I'm thirsty."  
  
Archer lifted his head, listening. Water, running from a height by the sounds of it. Not a waterfall by any means, but a good  
flow. "I hear it too," he said. "I can try to find it. Will you be all right here?"  
  
"I'm not about to go anywhere, sir." The mild irony in Reed's voice was encouraging. The captain nodded. He was about to  
move off when another tremor rocked the cave. It lasted several seconds and Archer held on to the younger man through it.  
  
When it subsided, there were sounds of falling earth, rocks pattered to the floor around them, and what had sounded like a trickle  
of water, had become something closer to a small deluge.  
  
Malcolm stirred under his hand. "I... would still like that drink, sir," he said, pulling the captain's thoughts back into focus.  
"I'm all right," he added as Archer hesitated a moment. "Just thirsty."  
  
"Okay." Archer moved away, half crawling in the direction of the sounds he could hear. He'd not gone far when his hand came  
down with a splash into ice cold water. He recoiled in shock. The soundwaves in the cave were deceptive and he hadn't expected  
the water to be this close. Lifting his hand to his mouth, he tasted. The water was sweet and fresh. He scooped a few mouthfuls  
for himself and then was faced with the problem of how to get water back to Malcolm.  
  
An idea forming, he called to Reed. "I'm going to have to carry water in my mouth to you." He couldn't think of anything else.  
  
"Fine, sir," Reed replied.  
  
Scooping more water into his mouth, the captain turned and made his way back to Reed's side. He groped in the darkness until he  
located the other man's head and then bent down. The angle was awkward, but he managed to transfer most of the water he carried  
from his mouth to Reed's. Their lips were scant millimeters apart as he did so.  
  
"More?" Archer asked after his mouth was empty.  
  
"That's enough for now," Malcolm replied. "Perhaps you could work at freeing my legs, sir."  
  
Nodding, Archer set to work digging away the rubble. He hoped that Malcolm's lack of pain meant he really was unhurt, and he  
wondered how close to finding them Trip and the others were. He could only hope they were nearby.  
  
  
  
\---  
  
**II**  
  
  
Trip Tucker was becoming frustrated. Admittedly, it didn't take much to do that these days, but it was even easier whenever the  
Xindi were involved. Here they were on another seeming false trail after the aliens that had killed his sister, and yet again, members  
of the crew were suffering for it.  
  
Tucker gritted his teeth to keep from cursing aloud as he scanned the area for any sign of the captain or Malcolm Reed.  
  
Nothing. He stared down at the scanner in his hand as if it had personally insulted him. "They've gotta be here." He muttered. "They  
can't just disappear off the face of the planet."  
  
Reaching for his communicator, he flipped it open.  
  
"Tucker to _Enterprise_ ," he said. He planned to have the ship make a sensor sweep of the area. Maybe their scans  
could pick up something they were missing with their smaller, handheld scanners.  
  
"Commander!" Chang turned to wave at him. "Over here, sir!"  
  
" _Enterprise_ ," T'Pol's voice responded at almost the same moment.  
  
Tucker began walking towards Chang. "Stand by," he said tersely into the communicator, snapping it closed before T'Pol  
could reply.  
  
As he came level with Chang, Tucker slid to a halt on the loose dirt and stones. He almost lost his balance and Chang steadied  
him with one hand.  
  
"What've you got?" Tucker asked.  
  
Chang handed him a broken communicator. "It must have fallen out of one of their pockets," he said, and Tucker nodded.  
  
"It's the captain's. That explains why he hasn't answered our calls...Malcolm must still have his though...unless it got smashed...  
" With a sigh, the commander opened his communicator and requested that the ship run a sensor sweep.  
  
\---  
  
It seemed to Archer as though he'd been digging for hours, but the pile of debris pinning Malcolm down wasn't getting any smaller.  
The sound of splashing water seemed to fill the cavern, and Archer worked feverishly. He cursed, wishing he had a torch or any  
source of light that would enable him to check the water level or even to see what the hell he was doing.  
  
"Captain?" Reed's voice sounded groggy, half asleep.  
  
"What is it, Malcolm...are you in pain?"  
  
"No... but I would like some more water, please."  
  
"Sure." Archer turned towards where he'd fetched water from earlier. "I wish I had something I could carry it in," he murmured.  
  
"It's fine, sir," Malcolm almost whispered. "I don't mind." Archer felt a twinge of alarm. He wondered if the lieutenant had hit his head.  
Concussion was a distinct possibility. He scrambled towards the water and was brought up short with a cry when within a couple of  
meters he had crawled into water up to his elbows. Shit...the water was rising way too fast.  
  
"Captain?" Reed's voice came to him. "Are you all right?"  
  
"I'm fine..." Archer sat back on his heels and rubbed at the back of his head with one hand, his mind ticked over rapidly as he tried to  
formulate a plan. At the rate the water was rising, he and Malcolm were going to be in serious trouble before long. He had to get the  
younger man out of danger as fast as possible.  
  
"I'm afraid you're going to have to wait for that water, Malcolm," Archer said as he clambered back to Reed's side. "We don't have any  
time to waste..." He began to scrabble at the dirt and rocks. "Damn I wish I'd thought to bring a light!"  
  
"I have one," Reed murmured. "In my pocket, a small torch... I always carry one, sir. Eagle Scout habit I suppose..." Reed made a sound,  
halfway between a chuckle and a cough. "Didn't the... North American branch teach you that?"  
  
"I guess I forgot." Archer smiled and patted Malcolm on the shoulder. "Now, where's this torch you keep talking about?"  
  
**III**  
  
"Commander Tucker," T'Pol spoke levelly over the com system. "We have located human life-signs in a cave almost directly below your  
location."  
  
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Tucker glanced down at the loose stones and dirt underfoot. "Why haven't we picked  
them up on our scanners?" he asked, "If we're that close..."  
  
"There is a lot of magnetic interference," T'Pol replied. "Perhaps it is affecting the performance of your scanners." She paused and then  
went on in a slightly more urgent tone. "Our scans indicate that the cave has a water source which is fed from an underground spring.  
However, there is no way for the water to leave the cave."  
  
With a grunt of acknowledgement, Tucker nodded. "Can you send us coordinates?"  
  
"Yes." T'Pol said. "I will have Ensign Sato relay them to your scanner. I suggest you work quickly."  
  
Tucker snapped the communicator shut and slipped it into his pocket. Glancing down at his scanner, he noted the coordinates that  
Hoshi had sent him and then turned his mind to the task of getting the captain and Malcolm out of there.  
  
"We're going to have to dig them out," he muttered. Glancing at Chang, he said. "Go round up the rest of your team and have them  
assemble here. I'm going to com the ship and ask them to send down some digging equip..." his words were cut off by an aftershock,  
a low, grinding rumble emitted from all around them. With a curse, Tucker pushed Chang aside, diving for more stable ground as the  
loose dirt they stood on began to roll and shift with the tremor.  
  
\---  
  
Archer ducked instinctively as the shaking began again. Clods of dirt and shards of falling rock tumbled all around them and he quickly  
moved to Malcolm's head, leaning over him protectively as the shaking intensified. Muttering curses to himself, Archer braced against  
the ground and then decided to lie flat as what had begun as a tremor turned into a moderate quake. He closed his eyes, praying, and  
folded his arms across the back of his head and neck in an attempt to protect himself from the showers of dirt and stone that rained  
down on them.  
  
The low muttering rumble turned to a roar and Archer knew he was looking death in the face for sure. Sudden daylight flooded the  
cave as a section of the roof fell away and Archer looked up in time to see what appeared to be a wall of water and debris rushing  
at him.  
  
"Malcolm!" He yelled, ducking his head and wrapping his arms around the slight shoulders of the younger man. He sucked in a breath  
and did his best to hold it as the water crashed in on them, turning the world to icy green shadows and sounds of rushing water.  
  
Desperately, he clung to Reed with all his strength while the water seemed equally determined to wrench him away. His lungs began to  
scream for air and the captain knew he was fighting a losing battle.  
  
All around him the water surged, first one way and then another as it encountered unyielding rock walls and rolled back on itself. Opening  
his eyes as the water seemed to calm a little, the captain looked around. He had the light he had wanted now, murky greenlit, watery light  
that showed him Malcolm, still pinned and seemingly lifeless under the rocks and dirt. His face was peaceful, almost as though he was sleeping,  
eyes closed, dark hair drifting gently in the water. Archer fought the urge to cry out, and the insistent demand of his lungs to breathe in. He  
looked up and was dazzled by sunlight filtering down from the surface.  
  
The water didn't seem all that deep, he thought he could almost touch the rippling surface if he reached out. Archer hesitated, looking from the  
surface to his companion, straining to see through the sediment that roiled around them both.  
  
His chest burning, and his head beginning to spin, the captain struck out desperately for the surface.  
  
In seconds, his head broke clear and Archer gulped a breath before instinct drove him to dive back under. Struggling against buoyancy,  
he fought his way back to Malcolm and tugged futilely at the man's shoulders. _I can't leave him_ , he thought desperately.  
'I can't lose him this way... god not by drowning... it’s his greatest fear...'  
  
The need for oxygen sent him to the surface for another desperate breath before diving again. He knew it was hopeless, the rational  
part of his mind told him so, but he couldn't just let go. 'Not Malcolm... not like this... please,' he silently prayed to any force that might  
be listening.  
  
The water was numbingly cold; it penetrated through the layers of clothing.  
  
His mind racing, Archer reached Malcolm and tried again to pull him free, but with little purchase, hindered by the cold and the weight  
of the debris holding the other man down. Shifting his grip to Malcolm's uniform front, Jonathan pulled himself closer to Reed's face.  
He pressed his lips to Malcolm's, pinching off the man's nose with one hand and blew the precious breath he held into Malcolm's mouth.  
Reed didn't respond. His lips were slack against the captain's and he didn't move. The precious air he'd tried to breathe into Malcolm's lungs drifted  
in fat, lazy bubbles past his cheeks, drifting towards the surface. Archer was forced to give up and swim for the surface once more. His body began  
to react to the cold and tremors wracked him. He broke the surface, sobbing for breath. Shaking his head to clear his eyes of murky water. He  
breathed deeply, hyperventilating as he prepared to dive again.  
  
  
"Cap'n!" Tucker's voice hailed him from somewhere above. He weakly lifted his head.  
  
"Trip?"  
  
"Keep still, Jon!" Tucker yelled. "We're gonna drop a rope to ya...grab a hold of it and tie it round your waist...we'll haul ya out."  
  
Archer shook his head, gasping for breath.  
  
"Malcolm... I ca-can't leave him!"  
  
"Where's Malcolm?" Tucker called.  
  
"T-trapped. I .. .couldn't.... Trip I've got to get him out!" He prepared to dive again.  
  
  
" Cap'n!"  
  
"I have to get him!" Archer drew a deep breath and dove beneath the surface. Malcolm wasn't far below. It was unthinkable that he should drown  
in such a shallow pool. Archer was determined he would not leave him down there.  
  
\---  
  
Tucker turned to Hayes and grabbed the end of the rope they'd been about to throw down to the captain. He quickly tied it around his own waist  
and met the Major's eyes.  
  
"I'm going in after him...I'm gonna get this rope around him and you haul us both up...understood?"  
  
\---  
  
  
Fighting the leaden weights that his arms and legs had become, Archer struggled to reach Malcolm's side again. He was dimly aware of an  
impact in the water. Someone had dived in after him. Jonathan struggled harder, fighting against the cold and the need to breathe, he  
wouldn't leave Malcolm here.  
  
Hands caught at him and Archer turned in the water, struggling with Tucker, but he was weakening, and the commander was fresher  
and soon hauled him back to the surface.  
  
"Lemme... go... Trip... Malcolm! I won't...leave him!"  
  
Tucker gasped for air, his teeth chattering with cold as he fought to loop the rope around the captain's waist.  
  
"I'm getting' you outta here, Captain!" he insisted. We'll get Malcolm too... I promise ya. But we hafta get you out of the water... it's too... cold!"  
  
"No!" Archer fought determinedly until the commander gripped his shoulders and shook him as hard as was possible given that they were in water.  
  
"Cap'n Archer!" Tucker yelled in the captain's face. "You're getting outta here if I have to haul ya kickin and screamin' all the way..." He looked  
into his friend's eyes. "Malcolm's time's runnin' out... now let me work, and we'll get t'him, I give ya m'word."  
  
Relenting, Archer went slack in the water and allowed Trip to get the rope around them both before he tugged on it to signal the men above to  
haul them up.  
  
**IV**  
  
It seemed to take hours to get the captain out of the cave, although Tucker knew it was only a few minutes after he'd dived into shockingly cold  
water. They'd wasted precious seconds while the captain fought him, then it had taken long minutes for the MACOS, working together, to haul  
them back up. In the back of his mind, Tucker knew every minute that ticked by was crucial for Malcolm.  
  
When Hayes and Chang reached for them, gripping them by the shoulders and hauling them onto land, Trip's first thought was to dive back in  
after Malcolm. He took a step towards the edge but halted when a strong hand gripped his arm.  
  
"Sir," Major Hayes said, "I'd advise against diving back in there. You'd be taking an unnecessary risk."  
  
Tucker hesitated for a moment, and then he nodded. Hayes was right. He couldn't risk another dive into the water himself, he was already  
chilled to the bone. He didn't want to risk sending any of the others after Reed either. He palmed his face and reached a decision on what  
to do.  
  
"We'll beam Malcolm out." He reached for his communicator and flipped it open to call the ship.  
  
"I'm going with him!" Archer came to his feet, the light of hope in his eyes.  
  
Tucker nodded and ordered emergency transport for the captain and Reed and then he and the away team made their way back to the shuttlepod.  
  
\---  
  
  
The first thing Malcolm Reed became aware of was something clinging to his face. It was irritating and he wanted to pull it away, but a gentle hand  
stayed him.  
  
"Try to keep still, Lieutenant," Crewman Cutler said. "It's an oxygen mask," she explained.  
  
Reed allowed her to press his hand back down onto what felt like a pile of pillows. He kept his eyes closed for the moment. Drawing a deep breath,  
he noted that the air he breathed felt warm and humid.  
  
"What happened? Where am I?"  
  
"It's all right," Cutler assured him. "You're in sickbay."  
  
Memory flooded back, and Reed began to struggle, trying to sit up while gentle but firm hands held him down.  
  
"There was an earthquake... landslide..." Reed swallowed hard. "We were trapped and... The water --"  
  
"Shh," Liz shook her head at him. "You really need to stay calm, Lieutenant."  
  
Relenting, Reed subsided on the bed, and closed his eyes. "I drowned, didn't I?"  
  
"Well, not quite," Liz replied, "but you have been through a lot. It's important that you keep still and allow your body time to recover." She patted him  
on the shoulder.  
  
For a moment, he pondered how much she sounded like Phlox. Working in close proximity with the doctor had rubbed off on Cutler to the extent  
that she had unconsciously adopted some of his mannerisms.  
  
He drew another deep breath and let it out slowly. "The captain --"  
  
"He's asleep, and he's all right, but for a few bumps and bruises," Liz replied. "You, on the other hand." she shook her head again.  
  
"I'm fi…" Reed began, and then trailed off. "Why can't I move my legs?"  
  
Cutler quickly moved to stop him as he tried to sit up. "Lie _still_!" she insisted. "I'll go and get the doctor; he can explain things to you,  
but you really do need to keep calm."  
  
As if on cue, Phlox came through the privacy screen and fixed Malcolm with a stern look.  
  
"Lieutenant, lie still." His tone brooked no opposition and Reed was quick to obey.  
  
Reed met the doctor's concerned gaze levelly and allowed his shoulders to sink back against the bed. "I can't move my legs," he said. "What's  
wrong with them?"  
  
"The paralysis is the result of a rather heavy fall onto a solid surface," Phlox replied. "A fall in which you sustained a broken leg, and trauma to  
your lower back. It was mostly swelling and bruising, which I have treated. I can't detect any serious damage to the spinal cord, but you will need  
to remain immobile whilst all of this heals. I have every reason to believe the paralysis is temporary."  
  
Reed looked away. "How long am I going to have to lie here?"  
  
"That... depends on several factors. The most important of which is your own willingness to cooperate."  
  
Reed sighed, but remained silent, he frowned, trying to recall what had happened in the cave. When the water hit the captain and himself,  
there had been little chance to do anything more than try to suck in a breath of air before the cold, murky half-light had shut out the rest  
of the world.  
  
He'd been aware of the captain calling his name, and the fierce grip of strong arms around his shoulders -- dimly, he recalled the captain  
struggling to pull him free, and then the pressure of Archer's lips against his own, seconds before the blackness brought on by hypoxia  
reached for him, he'd not fought it. His last memory was of the all-pervading cold that seemed to flood into him.  
  
He'd known nothing more after that, until he had a foggy recollection of gasping for breath, choking, coughing up liters of water...was that  
true? Reed closed his eyes. It didn't seem real. He felt oddly detached from the memory, as though it had happened outside of himself – to  
someone else. He drifted to sleep with those thoughts.  
  
\---  
  
Tucker sat by the captain's bed, waiting for Archer to wake up. He'd headed to sickbay as soon as the shuttlepod docked to learn that the  
captain had fallen into an exhausted sleep almost as soon as he made sure that Phlox wouldn’t let Reed go without a fight. As yet, the  
captain hadn't been informed that Reed had survived.  
  
Although Phlox tried to convince Tucker to rest, the commander refused, preferring to be by his friend's side when he woke, and to be the  
one to tell him Malcolm was alive.  
  
They were still in orbit of the planet where the cave in occurred and Tucker wondered if the captain would make another attempt to find  
the Xindi they'd come here looking for. In some ways he hoped not. The away mission had almost cost his two best friends and it was  
an experience the commander was not anxious to repeat. The cost of following a cold and probably false trail just seemed too high.  
  
_After all,_ he told himself. _We're just one ship with a few humans on board up against an entire expanse which is every  
bit as much out to get us as the Xindi are. All they gotta do is sit back and pick us off one at a time on these damn wild goose chases, or  
wait till the expanse does the job for 'em_.  
  
He started and looked up as Archer stirred, rolling his head from side to side as he began to waken. Tucker got to his feet, leaning over the  
captain and taking hold of one of his hands, squeezing it lightly.  
  
"Hey," he said.  
  
"Trip." The captain briefly returned the pressure on his hand.  
  
"How're you feelin'?  
  
"Tired."  
  
Tucker nodded and smiled slightly. "Well, ya got a right to be tired after what you an' Malcolm went through."  
  
"Malcolm." The captain met Tucker's eyes, his own clouded with worry. "Is he...?"  
  
Tucker opened his mouth to reply but was forestalled by the arrival of the doctor.  
  
"Ah... you're awake," Phlox said. He picked up a scanner and moved to the captain's side, running the small device over his patient.  
  
"Malcolm?" Archer asked in a shaky voice.  
  
"Lieutenant Reed is resting," Phlox replied. "However, I think you could see him, if you feel strong enough to get up, Captain."  
  
"He's... okay?"  
  
Tucker decided it was time he stepped in. He got to his feet, wanting to wipe the worry out of his friend's eyes.  
  
"Malcolm made it. He's alive, Jon. Somehow that obstinate bastard got outta there alive."  
  
Jon sat up, almost knocking heads with Trip who had to step back swiftly to avoid a concussion.  
  
Tentative joy began to creep into the captain's face. "Malcolm's alive?" A moment's hesitation and then he swung his legs over the side of  
the bed and dropped to the floor, stumbling drunkenly. "Where? I want to see him!"  
  
\---  
  
Reed lay on the biobed, asleep. His face held the same serene and peaceful expression that Archer remembered seeing when the cave  
flooded with water. He shuddered at the memory, glancing over his shoulder at Phlox, who smiled encouragingly and nodded, waving  
him forward.  
  
Taking a firmer grip on Tucker's arm, the captain made his way to the bedside and eased his frame down onto a chair that Tucker pulled  
forward for him. He stared at Reed in silence, willing the man to open his eyes.  
  
Archer drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. Reaching for Reed's hand, he took it in his own and closed his eyes in relief to feel warm  
skin. So, he really _was_ alive. Archer swallowed hard at the realization of how close he'd come to losing him. He glanced up  
as Tucker patted him on the shoulder and then quietly walked away, leaving the captain alone with Reed.  
  
Reed didn't stir, and Archer was content just to sit by him and keep hold of his hand. In his mind, he relived the desperate moments  
as he'd dived repeatedly under the water in a frantic attempt to keep the younger man alive.  
  
The thought of those moments caused another shudder to run through him and the captain leaned forward, resting his forehead  
against the side of the bed and pressing Reed's hand to his cheek. He screwed his eyes tight shut against threatening tears.  
  
He didn't know what he would have done if Malcolm had died. He only knew that waking up to the thought that Malcolm was dead  
had made him want to die too. The idea that he would never see Malcolm's face again, hear his voice, see him smile, or hear him laugh.  
Archer's breath hitched in his throat, and though he struggled to suppress it, a harsh sob broke from his lips.  
  
_I could have lost you_ , he thought. _And you never would have known...how I feel about you._  
  
Reed's fingers twitched, and Archer raised his head, looking into the face of the younger man. As he watched, Reed rolled his head to  
the side and slowly blinked awake.  
  
Grey eyes met green and there was a long moment of silence as everything in the room seemed to go very still.  
  
"Malcolm," Archer whispered, not trusting his voice to be steady.  
  
"Captain," Reed replied in a small, rasping voice. He stirred a little on the bed and his eyes went to where Archer still gripped his hand.  
With another small twitch of his fingers, Reed pulled out of the captain's grasp. "Don't do that," he said.  
  
"Malcolm, I --"  
  
"Don't." The lieutenant seemed to withdraw somewhere away inside of himself and his expression became closed and distant.  
  
Renewed pain twisted in Archer's heart and he lowered his eyes, laying his hands on his thighs and rubbing them slowly as though to  
wipe away the feeling of Reed's skin against his own. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.  
  
There was no reply, and the silence grew between them until it made Archer fidget.  
  
With a sigh, the captain stumbled to his feet. "I... guess I should let you rest," he said, edging towards the curtain that enclosed Reed's  
bed. "I... I'm glad you're... all right." He turned away, making his way through the privacy screen as quickly as he could.  
  
Phlox turned from his workbench to look at the captain as Archer emerged. "Still sleeping?" he asked, inclining his head in the direction  
of Reed's bed.  
  
"No," Archer said dispiritedly, "He's awake."  
  
"Oh..." Phlox frowned. "That was a short visit, by human standards."  
  
"I guess... Malcolm isn't feeling up to company right now," Archer said. He sighed and turned towards his own bed. "I'm a little tired myself."  
  
"Captain?"  
  
Phlox followed him. Archer was hard pressed not to turn on the doctor and tell him to go to hell. The pain still raw from Reed's cool rejection  
of his offer of comfort, he wanted to be alone so that he could get his emotions under control. He bit down on the irritation and paused a moment.  
  
"Phlox, I'd really like to rest, if you don't mind," he said, keeping his tone as level as possible.  
  
"This won't take long, Captain." Phlox was insistent and put a hand on the captain's shoulder, guiding him to his bed as he talked. "I take it  
Lieutenant Reed was less than delighted to have you visit?" The doctor waited until Archer settled himself on the biobed and then went on.  
"Such reactions are not uncommon with patients in his condition."  
  
Archer looked at the doctor and shook his head. "I don't think it had much to do with his 'condition', doctor, and I don't blame him." He looked  
away. "Malcolm's got every right to be angry with me, and to never want to see me again. If it wasn't for me, he wouldn't _be_ in his  
current condition!" His voice had been rising steadily as he spoke, and on the last word, Archer was nearly shouting.  
  
"It's my fault. I dragged him down there on that damned mission, and I got him into that cave in..."  
  
"Nonsense!" Phlox's tone was almost as sharp as the captain's had been. "You went on that mission as a part of your duty to find the Xindi,  
Captain. The lieutenant understands that every bit as well as you. His reaction to your visit is due to depression, I can assure you. He has  
suffered an ordeal that left him with injuries that will take time to heal. Given time, I am sure that his mood will improve." The doctor paused  
and took a deep breath.  
  
"The last thing Lieutenant Reed needs at present is for his friends to turn their backs on him. Regardless of his attitude at the moment,  
he is going to need your support in order to expedite his recovery."  
  
Archer sighed and lay down, closing his eyes. There was little point in arguing with the doctor and he knew it, but something told him that  
Malcolm's rejection of him went a lot deeper than mere reaction to his injuries.  
  
"I just want to rest," he said softly and the doctor relented with a nod.  
  
"Very well," Phlox said. "If you'd be more comfortable in your own quarters, I can't see any reason why you shouldn't go there," he added  
before he turned and walked away.  
  
For a moment, the captain was tempted to take up the offer, but decided that he'd rather stay as near to Reed as he could for now.  
There was always a remote possibility that Phlox was right, and Malcolm would decide he wanted to see him after all.  
  
  
**V**  
  
"Can you feel that, Lieutenant?" Phlox raised his eyes to his patient's face as he pressed the pointed end of a patella hammer into the  
sole of Malcolm's foot.  
  
"No." Reed shook his head, not meeting the doctor's eyes. "Nothing."  
  
With a shake of his head, Phlox tried the other foot. "That?" he prompted.  
  
"No."  
  
Reed's voice was still hoarse, and the doctor looked at him sharply for a moment before he shook his head.  
  
"I had expected more progress by now." Phlox sighed. "The damage to your spine has completely healed. I can detect no neural  
damage." He ran a scan of Reed's body to double check as he spoke. "You _should_ be able to move normally and  
have restored sensation."  
  
"It's not as if I _want_ to lie here day after day, unable to feel anything, unable to walk!" Irritation sharpened reeds tone.  
"Do you really think I would _choose_ this?" He averted his gaze as the doctor frowned at him.  
  
Reed would give anything to be able to get up and leave the sickbay, to go to his own cabin and shut himself away from the  
pitying eyes of his crewmates and the sickbay staff.  
  
He especially wanted to lock himself away from the pity and guilt he remembered in the captain's eyes the day he awoke to  
find Archer holding his hand and crying over him. He couldn't bear to think of it. At least he'd been spared having to endure  
that sight again for the last few days.  
  
Tucker had come in to see him a few times since that day, but the captain hadn't returned after Malcolm made it clear that he  
didn't wish to see him.  
  
Reed found that he was able to understand Tucker better since his near drowning experience. He could understand now, why  
Tucker had determinedly pushed him away when he tried to offer comfort and support after Lizzie died. He could see it all so  
clearly that he often berated himself for being blind before. Tucker didn't want pity any more than he wanted it himself.  
  
"Lieutenant?"  
  
Phlox's voice brought him back to the present with a jolt, and Reed turned to him with a sigh.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I said I can arrange for some reports to be brought in for you to look over if you'd like." Phlox smiled encouragingly. "Perhaps,  
doing some work will help to lift your spirits?"  
  
"Thank you, no." Reed said. His voice sounded odd in his own ears, as though he needed to clear his throat, but he didn't  
bother to try. No amount of coughing till now had made any difference. "Tanner can handle the armory, I'm sure."  
  
With a shake of his head, the doctor wandered away, muttering to himself and Reed let out a sigh of relief. He knew that the  
doctor was worried about him, and trying anything he could to lift him out of the despondency that had settled upon him,  
but he wished that Phlox would give up. He didn't care either way, really, and would be just as satisfied to be sent home... except  
that wasn't possible out here in this damned expanse.  
  
Letting his eyes wander to the ceiling, Reed finally relaxed now that he was alone. Perhaps if he were lucky, some random anomaly  
of the expanse would crash through right above him and finish off what the water had started. A smile touched his lips at the thought  
and remained in place for several moments before he shook his head. Dismissing the wishful thought, he settled for taking a nap.  
  
Sleep was a comforting blanket he could wrap himself in and hide away from the waking world where everyone, even Trip, tried so hard  
to cheer him up all the time.  
  
  
\---  
  
Jonathan Archer stood in the command center reviewing the Xindi database for the hundredth time that week, pondering the star charts  
and information archives, trying to make sense of them. He sighed and palmed his face as the comm. Panel beeped and Phlox called him.  
  
"Captain Archer, do you have a few moments to spare?"  
  
Thumbing the call button, the captain nodded and then said. "I'm in the command center. Do you want me to come to sickbay?"  
  
"Under the circumstances, Captain, I think it would be better if I come to you," Phlox replied. "I'll be there shortly."  
  
Closing the comm., Archer moved to a seat, still gazing up at the screen, which flicked through text and images seemingly at random.  
He watched it absently, wondering what the doctor wanted to discuss. If he was honest, he knew the answer: Malcolm.  
  
Archer sighed, resigning himself to yet another debate with Phlox about respecting Reed's wishes. He hadn't attempted to see the  
lieutenant in several days. He'd gone back once after Reed woke up, but Reed had remained closed off and distant, responding  
reluctantly to his attempts at conversation and making it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with Archer.  
  
Phlox and Tucker had both tried to tell him it was nothing personal, and that Malcolm treated them the same way, but it didn't gel  
with him. Reed didn't send Tucker away and then refuse to see him again. Archer knew the commander had visited with Reed several  
times in the past few days.  
  
The sound of the door chime brought Archer out of his morose thoughts and he stood up, turning to face the door.  
  
"Come in."  
  
The door slid open to admit Phlox. The doctor wasted no time in getting to the point of his visit.  
  
"I'm here about Lieutenant Reed. His condition is not improving, and I can find no physiological reason for it." He held out a PADD  
to Jonathan. "There are, however, other explanations."  
  
Taking the PADD, the captain looked down at it and read the first few lines on the screen.  
  
"Conversion Disorder?" He looked up with a frown.  
  
The doctor nodded slightly and gestured to the PADD. "I've been doing some research into the condition, which used to be known  
as hysterical conversion," he said.  
  
Archer studied the doctor's face for a moment, and then looked at the PADD in his hand. "You're saying that Malcolm has a mental  
illness. That he's..."  
  
"Conversion Disorder is a psychiatric illness," Phlox replied, "However, Lieutenant Reed's sanity is not in question. He has merely  
confronted an event or an idea which is so terrible to him, that it has been converted into a physical manifestation. In this case,  
paralysis, and aphonia."  
  
Archer palmed his face and let out a breath. "Near drowning will do that, I suppose!" he snapped. He couldn't help thinking that  
his own actions were responsible in large part for the difficulties Malcolm was facing. He sighed and looked at the doctor. "How  
do you propose to treat it?"  
  
"At this stage, I am considering anti-depressant medication," Phlox said, "But along with that, I can only re-stress the need for  
Lieutenant Reed to receive support from his crewmates and those he considers his close friends." Phlox met the captain's eyes  
levelly. "Yourself included."  
  
"Malcolm has made it clear that he doesn't want--"  
  
"And I contend that Lieutenant Reed is really in no condition to rationally decide what he wants." Phlox stood up and his tone  
softened as he laid a hand on the captain's shoulder. "I understand your reluctance to cut across the lieutenant's wishes, Captain.  
However, doing so at this point is in his best interests. I wouldn't ask it otherwise." He reached for the PADD. "Come by sickbay  
later this afternoon, hm? I'll let him know you're coming, and that refusing your visit would be contrary to my orders." He smiled.  
"I am still in charge of my sickbay."  
  
  
**VI**  
  
Reed didn't know where Phlox had found an armchair, and he really  
couldn't have cared less if the doctor had built it with his own hands. He  
sat in it morosely, propped by pillows and with a light blanket over his  
knees, and glowered at anyone who came within range.  
  
Phlox and his staff either ignored him, or met his sullen  
glares with determined cheer. It made his already irritable state even worse,  
and he ground his teeth, longing for an opportunity to tell  
someone -- anyone -- just exactly what he thought of this sudden shift in his  
treatment.  
  
Despite his protests, the doctor, Cutler and an orderly had 'helped' him out  
of bed to sit in this ridiculous chair, looking like the hopeless invalid he  
was, facing the door, and as Phlox had put it, 'greet his imminent visitor.'  
Reed wanted to growl. He wanted to get up and walk out. He wanted a lot  
of things that he couldn't have which only served to worsen his already  
sour disposition.  
  
When the door opened, and the captain walked into sickbay, the lieutenant scowled  
at him and looked away. He might have known that Phlox would put Archer up  
to something like this. He didn't speak, and he didn't look up as the  
captain moved to sit opposite him. He picked fretfully at the blanket on  
his lap and kept his gaze fastened to his restless fingers.  
  
"Hi," Archer said softly. Reed answered him with a small grunt.  
  
"It's good to see you out of bed." Archer ignored the  
baleful glance Reed shot him. "We've missed you on the bridge."  
  
The captain smiled. A brittle, tremulous flash of teeth before he sighed and lowered his gaze.  
  
"Phlox says there's a good chance you could come back to work soon."  
  
"Really?" Reed met the captain's eyes for the first time. "In an anti-gravchair?"  
  
"Malcolm..." Archer’s expression was pained and he shook his head slightly.  
"You could..."  
  
"I could what, sir? I could come to the bridge in an anti-gravchair, or better  
yet, Phlox and his orderlies could carry me! I could sit up there and make a  
spectacle of myself as I've been forced to do here?" Reed  
shook his head with a bitter little laugh. "I _can't_ work, Captain, and  
you're deluding yourself if you think otherwise."  
  
He pushed the blanket off his lap and pointed to his legs. "They won't bear  
my weight. I can't move them; I can't _walk_ and you may as well just stop  
trying to pretend everything is fine! I'm useless to _Enterprise_ and to you  
and to everyone I..." He trailed off, gasping a breath. "I want you all to  
just leave me the hell alone!"  
  
"We're not going to do that, Malcolm." For the first time, a hint of anger  
flared in Archer's eyes and he leaned forward. "You might have given up on  
yourself, but we won't. _I_ won't!"  
  
Reed studied Archer's face for a moment, reading the grim determination  
in his expression and then he averted his eyes. He recalled a time months before when the captain had said much  
the same thing to him. When he'd advised Archer to cut him loose with a section of the hull to save Enterprise from  
an alien minefield; he hadn't understood the  
captain's reasoning then, and he didn't understand it now.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Silence stretched between them for several heartbeats and he watched  
conflicting emotions flicker across the captain's features.  
  
Finally, Archer met his eyes and a tiny, sad smile touched his lips.  
  
"Because I care about you, Malcolm. Because I..." Archer swallowed and his  
gaze flickered away for an instant and then back. "Because...."  
  
"No... it's because you pity me." Reed said quietly, steeling himself  
against the raw emotion in Archer's face. "You think I didn't see it in  
your eyes the day I woke up? When I found you crying over me like I was  
some... some kind of..." He looked away. "I don't want pity, Captain. I may  
not be good for anything much, anymore, but at least allow me a shred of  
dignity."  
  
"Malcolm, you're not useless, and you're not a charity case." Archer moved  
from his chair to hunker in front of the younger man. "Phlox says there's no  
physical reason why you can't feel anything in your legs. There's nothing to prevent  
you from coming back to work. Malcolm, please listen to me!" He reached  
for Reed's hand and took hold of it, shaking it lightly to force the lieutenant to  
meet his eyes. "Whatever's troubling you... we can work through it together.  
I want to help you come back."  
  
"I wish I could believe that," Reed said. He looked away, but his hand stayed clasped in Jonathan’s hand.  
  
Watching him, Archer all but held his breath. He noted the play of emotion  
over the younger man's face, the eyes that reflected so much of what went on  
inside. These were things he'd come to know and love over the years that he'd worked with Malcolm Reed.  
  
Although Reed tried hard to erect a facade of cold indifference, Archer knew  
there was much more beneath the surface. He waited in silence, not wanting  
to push for a response.  
  
"I did believe it once." Reed glanced into Archer's eyes and away again.  
"I believed it the day you freed me from that mine. But... since the Xindi  
attacked Earth it's all changed. You've become consumed with vengeance... on  
a personal vendetta and nothing else matters to you." Reed closed his eyes  
and his hand tightened reflexively on Archers. "I can't believe some of the  
lengths you've been prepared to go…"  
  
"Malcolm--"  
  
"No!" Reed pulled his hand out of Archer's grasp. "I agreed to see you at  
Phlox' insistence... didn't have much of a choice, really. But I don't have  
anything else to say, Captain. I... I want you to --"  
  
"Malcolm, what do I have to do to prove it to you?" Archer moved forward,  
resting his hands on Reed's shoulders. "What would convince you that I care for you?"  
  
"I don't think there's anything you can do," Reed said wearily. "Now  
would you please go? I'm tired."  
  
Archer got to his feet and took a reluctant step towards the  
doors. He had to find some way to make the younger man believe that he really did  
care about him. He drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as he finally  
turned and left. He had plans to meet Trip for lunch to discuss the matter with his friend. Maybe Tucker could come up with some  
idea to reach Reed and get him to  
loosen up.  
  
**VII**  
  
"He's just completely shut me out, Trip."  
  
Jonathan Archer was the picture of abject misery as he pushed the remnants of a steak around his plate. "I've done everything I can  
do to make him see how I feel..." he sighed and laid his fork down on the plate, giving up the pretense of eating as he met his friend's  
eyes. "You know I'm not a stickler for by the book," he said. "But this is fraternization, Trip and... much as I want to, I can't make any  
more overt moves than I have already."  
  
Tucker leaned back in his chair, watching his friend. He'd barely touched his lunch either, having realized that Jon needed to talk more  
than he needed to eat, and he didn't have much appetite these days anyway. He shook his head slightly.  
  
"I don't understand it," he said, "Malcolm's usually pretty straightforward and he'd hafta be one of the most rational people I've ever known...  
I'm almost certain he knows how ya feel about him, Jon. Tellin' him straight out wouldn’t be crossin’ any lines far as I can tell."  
  
"I can't." Archer shook his head and got to his feet. "Besides, I don't think he'll even agree to see me again. He was straight forward about that at least."  
  
The wistful look that crossed the captain's face, made Tucker wince. As the captain moved past him, Trip stood and patted him on the shoulder.  
"I'm sure everythin'll work out, Cap'n," he said encouragingly. "Malcolm just needs time...you'll see."  
  
\---  
  
Malcolm had finally been permitted to go back to bed, but not before the doctor insisted on putting him through a series of exercises. He had given  
up arguing with Phlox, who met every protest with jovial humor and that odd triangular smile of his.  
  
"The muscles will waste from lack of use, Lieutenant," Phlox told him, "and that will only prolong your recovery. Best to keep them toned so that you  
will have less work to do when sensation does return, hm?"  
  
Now he lay back against the pillows on the admittedly uncomfortable biobed, eyes closed as he mused on how tiring sickbay was. He couldn't really  
rest here, with people in and out all hours of the day and night.  
  
Malcolm had gained an intimate understanding in the past week and a half, of how many crewmembers had trouble sleeping in the expanse. How many  
suffered from headaches, bellyaches and just general pains in the neck. He sighed, wondering how Phlox managed to preserve his good humor. The doctor  
never seemed irritated or wearied by the constant demands for attention.  
  
For Malcolm though, the steady stream of activity began to pall and he'd seriously considered requesting to return to his own quarters, but he supposed  
it wouldn't be much different there; after all, he would still need assistance with basic activities like showering, dressing, and taking care of other bodily  
functions... all of which were humiliating in the extreme, and the thought of having to give up his private cabin to share with someone to tend to him was  
even more abhorrent than remaining in sickbay. He was, so to speak, caught between a rock and a hard place.  
  
At the sound of a familiar voice from the other side of the privacy screen, Malcolm groaned inwardly.  
  
"Can I see him?" Tucker's voice enquired deferentially, and Malcolm found himself praying that Phlox would say no.  
  
No such luck. The doctor agreed readily and a moment later, the screen parted, and Tucker stuck his head through it.  
  
"Y'awake, Malcolm?"  
  
"No?" Malcolm attempted, stifling a scowl when the engineer barreled into his private space and sat down.  
  
"Ah c'mon," Tucker said cheerfully. "Don't be like that...I know ya look forward t'my visits."  
  
"Oh of course," Reed muttered, "High point of my existence, honestly."  
  
Tucker laughed shifting his chair closer to the bed with an ear splitting squeal of metal legs against the flooring. Reed winced.  
  
"I had lunch with the cap'n," Tucker informed him. "He's...not real happy, Malcolm."  
  
"Really?"  
  
There was silence for a few moments and Malcolm turned to look at his friend, finding bright blue eyes studying him carefully.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Why are you pushin' him away?"  
  
"Pushing him away?"  
  
"You won't see him, y'won't talk to him...he's..."  
  
Did he put you up to this? Send you to wear me down, because he can't..."  
  
"Now hold on just a damned minute!" Tucker came to his feet, standing next to the bed as he locked eyes with Reed. "Jon didn't put me up t'anythin'!  
He probably thinks I went on back to engineerin' after lunch, so before you start getting' all snotty, you just can it!"  
  
"Fine." Reed looked away and closed his eyes with a sigh. "So, it's all your own idea, but that's not going to change anything. Why don't you just mind  
your own business?"  
  
"What is it with you?" Tucker's voice grew sharper and he sat back down. "I'm getting' just a little tired of listenin' to you moan about how bad off  
y'are. Ya don't have the market on sufferin' Malcolm!"  
  
"You're a fine one to talk!" Anger flashed through Reed and he pushed himself to a sitting position. "You did _your_ share of bemoaning  
your fate a few weeks ago... _and_ pushing away anyone who tried to help!"  
  
"Yeah... I'll give ya that one." Tucker looked into Malcolm's eyes, "But I learned that it doesn't work that way, Malcolm." He sighed and shook his head  
slightly. "Look, I'm not sayin' ya haven't got a right to be angry, or that ya shouldn't feel bad...but ya got no right t'take it out on Jon. He..."  
  
"I'm _not_ taking anything out on him!" Malcolm shook his head. "I just...I don't want his pity! I can't stand the way he looks at me as  
though he feels responsible as though I'm..." Reed trailed off and looked into Tucker's eyes. "I thought _you_ of all people would understand!"  
  
"Pity? You think Jon's been hanging around here, trying to get you to talk because he feels _sorry_ for you?" Tucker shook his head in disbelief.  
"You think he risked his life, diving under that water, tryin' to get you out because of _pity_! Malcolm. You didn't see him... he... he was desperate  
to get ya out of there. If we hadn't got to him when we did, _he_ probably woulda drowned! It wasn't pity Malcolm! It's got nothin' t'do with him feelin'  
sorry for ya."  
  
Malcolm looked into his friend's eyes and swallowed hard. "He did all that?"  
  
"Hell, Malcolm!" Tucker pushed a hand through his short-cropped hair and dropped into his chair. "I've never seen him so worked up. Not even when we were  
hit by that mine, when y'were pinned through the leg... He didn't care that he might take pneumonia... he didn't care about anythin' he just wanted us to get  
you out."  
  
Reed closed his eyes with a sigh and turned away from the Engineer. "Dear God," he whispered. He fell silent for several moments.  
  
A light touch on his shoulder caused him to startle and he opened his eyes, but kept his gaze averted as Tucker leaned over him.  
  
"Listen, Malcolm. Jon'd probably kick my ass if he knew I told ya this, but I'm goin' to because I think the two of you deserve a chance. He loves you,  
Malcolm, he's crazy about ya... but he's never gonna make the first move. He's done all he's gonna do to let ya know how he feels, but the rest is up  
to you... it has to come from you, Malcolm. Don't let it slip by ya."  
  
Malcolm didn't reply. After a few moments, Tucker left.  
  
Malcolm slowly laid back down on the biobed, a thoughtful expression on his face as he pondered what Tucker had told him. He swallowed hard as he  
confronted how unfairly he had treated Jonathan Archer. Having mistaken Jonathan's sorrow when he woke up for pity, it had been easy to harden his  
heart against the captain. Reed swallowed hard.  
  
This information put an entirely new slant on things, and Malcolm realized he'd been guilty of making misguided and unreasonable assumptions. His horror  
at the thought of being treated as an object of pity for the remainder of his time aboard _Enterprise_ had blinded him to the facts. Malcolm sat up  
as he reached a decision.  
  
"Doctor," he called as loudly as his still raspy voice would permit.  
  
A few seconds later it was Cutler rather than Phlox who looked in through the privacy screen.  
  
"Is there something you need, Lieutenant?"  
  
"Yes, I want to get out of bed...and...I'd like to see Captain Archer...if he has time."  
  
  
**VIII**  
  
Arriving in sickbay, Jonathan Archer was greeted by a surprising sight. For the first time in almost two weeks, Malcolm Reed was on his feet.  
  
Reed stood by his bed, admittedly a little shaky, and supporting himself with both hands resting on the bed behind him. His legs were not entirely  
bearing his weight, which rested on his arms for the most part, but he was standing nevertheless, and his expression when he met the captain's eyes  
was both welcoming and apologetic.  
  
"Malcolm," Jonathan said. "You wanted to see me?"  
  
"I hope I didn't interrupt anything." Reed looked away for an instant and the captain stepped closer to him.  
  
"No." Archer shook his head. "I wasn't busy." He would never be too busy for Malcolm.  
  
A small nod and then cloudy grey eyes turned to him and Reed drew a deep breath.  
  
"I wanted to apologize," he said. "I've treated you very unfairly the past week or so and... I'm sorry."  
  
"Malcolm..."  
  
"No, let me finish." Reed went on quickly. "I made some assumptions that were both ill-guided and incorrect," His voice took on the clipped formal tones  
he used when making a report, one that Archer had come to understand also served as an emotional shield when Reed was fighting for composure.  
"Had I taken the time to... ask, I would have found this out sooner. I..." At this point the strength in Reed's arms appeared to give out.  
  
Quickly stepping forward, the captain caught Reed before he fell, and then helped him onto the bed.  
  
Once he was settled, Reed reached for the captain's hand and looked into Archer's eyes. "I wanted to thank you, as well," he murmured. "I heard how you  
wouldn't rest until they got me out." He lowered his gaze.  
  
Archer leaned forward until he could catch Reed's eyes and held his gaze. "I never could have just left you there," He said softly. "You have to believe that,  
Malcolm."  
  
Reed nodded without speaking.  
  
Silence grew between them.  
  
Slowly, a tiny smile crept across Reed's lips and Jonathan marveled at it, he felt an answering smile on his own lips.  
  
"There is one thing, sir," Reed said.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I'm still waiting for that drink."  
  
Archer chuckled and straightened up, reaching for the pitcher and plastic cup beside the bed. "I did promise you that didn't I?" he said as he poured a  
little water into the cup.  
  
"What...not in your mouth this time?" Reed's eyes gleamed with gentle humor and Archer felt himself blush. A few times since their ordeal in the cave,  
he'd replayed the scene, agonizing that it had been the closest he'd ever come to kissing Malcolm or probably ever would.  
  
"I don't think..." He began but was cut off when Reed caught hold of his arm and pulled him closer with surprising strength.  
  
"Well then, I'll just have to forgo the water for now," Reed whispered an instant before their lips met in a somewhat awkward, but no less passionate,  
first kiss.  
  
Neither of them noticed the splash and clatter as pitcher and cup tumbled from Archer's hands to the floor, nor the flood of water that spread across the  
metal deck plating.  
  
Archer groaned as an exploring tongue invaded his mouth. He met it with his own. His arms went around the slight frame of the man he had thought,  
just hours ago, would never want to see him again, much less kiss him. He closed his eyes, savoring the kiss, and delighting in the small sound of  
passion Reed made as the kiss deepened.  
  
Eventually, oxygen starved and panting, they broke apart and Archer blinked a few times, dazed and breathless as he stared into grey eyes clouded  
with passion in place of misery.  
  
He smiled, still holding Reed close.  
  
"Still Thirsty?"  
  
"Parched," Reed murmured and claimed the captain's mouth again.  
  
~FIN~


End file.
